Over A Setting Sun
by Sarcasm Mode
Summary: Much was left unspoken; but at that moment, all it took was a simple gesture. A simple gesture to bond the son of Poseidon and the son of Jupiter, over a setting sun. Short one-shot, slight angst. Read and review. A goodbye present to my friends. Enjoy!


**AN: Hey, guys. So, I assume you will have no interest in my personal life, but for anyone who cares to read this: I wrote this as a sort of goodbye present to my friends, since I'm leaving. Tonight, actually. I'm going to attend a boarding school. So, consequently, this is a present to you guys too. I doubt I'll have any time to write, at least not on fanfiction, especially since my mum doesn't let me bring a laptop. Sulk. ANYWAY, I'll miss you guys and hope to see you all soon! (Well, write soon. Whatever.) *Insert smiley face. Haha. I realize this is quite a long AN, so lets get on with the story!**

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A lone demigod sat on the hill, staring at the sunset. The rays reflected off his gold hair, glinting and shimmering.

"Hey."

He didn't want to acknowledge _that_ voice, especially not then. Not when he just got back from _his_ camp, heard all _his_ stories, (myths, he thought. But then again, wasn't his whole life one?) and had _him_ steal his home, status and honour right before he returned.

The blue-eyed hero muttered a greeting.

"May I?"

The other demigod gestured at the ground.

He shrugged. There was no point denying _him_. He still had a duty. A job to finish, whether he liked it or not.

_So does he,_ a voice said in his head._ And he's doing a better job at trying than you are._

The two men (even if neither of them are 18, they've both been through too much to be called 'boys') sat, wallowing in their thoughts.

"How do you do it?"

Green eyes flicked toward him, startled.

"What?"

"How do you do it?" The blonde half-blood repeated. "How do you earn the respect of the senate in a matter of days? How do you become a praetor so quickly when it took me years? How do you have even _Reyna_ looking to you for help?"

The raven-haired half-blood blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and tilted his head, pondering the question.

"I used to ask myself that," _he_ mused. "I still do."

"But how?" The child of Rome pressed.

"I don't know. I've always had help…"

"And how do you do that?" He interrupted, bright blue eyes blazing. "How are you so freaking modest when people practically worship you?

Those sea green eyes (the exact colour of _his_ father's domain, just like his own) flashed with uncertainty.

"I never really questioned it. We don't have ranks or places or whatever. We fight, we survive and we live. There never was anything to brag about."

Of course. _He_ was Greek. He had been at their camp long enough to respect their ways. But it had always been strange to him. The Greeks didn't fight for a praetor, or their pride. They fought for what, and who, they loved.

The golden-haired demigod nodded slightly.

"How was the Camp?" _He_ asked suddenly. "When I was… Missing."

"You mean besides everyone being depressed and Annabeth going crazy looking for you? Normal, I guess. But I wouldn't know, would I?"

Silence. He turned. The Greek's eyes were dark with unspoken grief. He understood the feeling. Feeling obliged to give his counterpart some comfort, even if there wasn't really a way too, he spoke.

"They really missed you. It was all doom and gloom without you. Even with Leo bouncing around like a hyperactive elf."

_He_ cracked a smile.

"I miss them too," _he _said. "It's not the same here."

Another beat of silence. He turned back towards the sun. It was almost out of sight.

"They missed you too, you know. Reyna never gave up. Or Hazel."

The former praetor grinned bitterly.

"But I was still too late."

There was a rustling sound next to him.

"Not true." The Greek held out the praetorian cape. "You're here now, and I believe this belongs to you."

The Roman half-blood smiled gratefully, and took the cape. He stood up, looking at the last dying rays of the sun.

"Come on. It's almost time for muster."

Jason held out his hand, waiting. Percy grasped it and hauled himself up. Much was left unspoken; but at that moment, all it took was a simple gesture. A simple gesture to bond the son of Poseidon and the son of Jupiter, over a setting sun.

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**AN: I wrote this on a whim at night, when I couldn't sleep. The story had been floating around my head for a while. Also, a friend of mine who shall remain unnamed helped me Beta this. Anyway, please review! This is quite short, I know, but I hope it's okay! Thanks for reading!**


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